Knightshade's Challenge Stories
by knightshade
Summary: A series of short stories written for challenges. Summaries for each of the stories can be found in chapter 1. Two new stories uploaded to chapters 12 and 13 on July 20, 2005: A Michael and Stevie short and a post KR, pre KR2K Michael POV short.
1. Ifs, Ands, and Buts

Author's Notes:

I have a bunch of challenge stories scattered around my hard drive that have, until now, only been posted in random places around the net. While they never really acquired a life of their own, beyond the scope of the individual challenges, most of them probably work as short stories or vignettes. Instead of posting each separately, I decided to corral them here with the details of each of the challenges.

This file will get updated as I get a chance to post more of them, or as they get written. Thanks.

-knightshade

**Story Summaries:**

Chapter 1: Ifs, Ands, and Buts -- Angst -- Kitt has to survive in an alternate reality without Michael, saddled with a partner who doesn't understand him.

Chapter 2: Bonnie's Death Scene -- Angst -- There's a fire in the Foundation's labs.

Chapter 3: Ragged -- Humor --Maddock finds somethingstrange in his office.

Chapter 4: The Right Guy -- Humor -- Kitt wonders about the perfect man for his technician.

Chapter 5: The Ends and the Means -- Angst -- Michael worries that he may have damaged his relationship with Kitt by lying.

Chapter 6: All-Nighters -- Day in the Life -- Bonnieenjoysa beautiful morning.

Chapter 7: Nobody Gets Hurt -- Action -- Michael puts himself at risk to help a hostage.

Chapter 8: Miscalculations -- Drama -- Bonnie isn't pleased when Kitt comes back damaged -- again.

Chapter 9: Holding Hands Drabbles -- Fluff -- 100 word shorts based around the idea of holding hands.

Chapter 10: Grass Stains and Ripped Jeans -- Humor -- Michael finds a good use for his old clothes.

Chapter 11: Minor Damage -- Drama -- Michael, Bonnie, and Kitt recover from a difficult case.

Chapter 12: Sooner Rather Than Later -- Fluff -- Michael spends some quiet time alone with Stevie before Christmas.

Chapter 13: Enough -- Drama -- Michael thinks back on his time with the Foundation, wondering when his coworkers became his family.

**Chaper 1: Janeway's Partnership Challenge:**

The challenge was to write a story where Michael and Kitt were not partners, but have them meet in some way.

I didn't exactly follow the rules of the challenge, but this is what came to mind.

Disclaimer: Kitt and anything Knight Rider isn't mine. See Glen A. Larson.

Rating: PG for slight violence Thank you to Tomy as always, for the beta read.

**Ifs, Ands, and Buts  
**  
Kitt winced as Coltan stabbed the 'fire' button and the rocket-propelled grenade leapt out of the launcher mounted under his hood. To his nanosecond processor, the few seconds it took for the grenade to hit its target seemed like an eternity. He secretly willed the ordinance to fail somehow, to miss its mark and go wide. But of course, it never did. His systems were too finely honed. The black sedan in their path skidded to a halt and tried to change direction, but it was too late. The grenade detonated and the car flipped over, engulfed in an inferno.

"Status, KITT," Coltan yelled.

"No survivors," he responded, trying to keep the horror out of his voice. He was not up to another verbal beating by Coltan. It was best to just accept these things and try to move on.

"Yeah!" Coltan yelled, slapping the dash with is big, meaty hands. "Good shooting, KITT!"

Kitt had long ago disabled his Eject Left function. On days like this, it was just too tempting. On days like this, he really missed Michael.

Michael Knight was the fantasy that Kitt carried around with him and guarded with all the strength he had left. He told no one about how much he wished that Michael were still alive, not even Bonnie. She was one of the few people that Kitt believed honestly cared about him, but he had learned the hard way that humans couldn't really be trusted. And if they could, he'd certainly lose them through some unfortunate circumstance or another.

Kitt watched as Coltan exited the cabin with military crispness and cautiously approached the burning hulk of the sedan. He held his gun out in front of him, ready just in case Kitt was wrong.

Michael didn't carry a gun. Of course, that was part of the problem, everyone said. That was why he was killed on their first case. That was why everything had to be different now. Kitt had valiantly fought that battle, many times, and with anyone who would listen, but he always lost. They were afraid.

He hadn't understood at the time how truly devastating Michael's death had been to the Foundation. He hadn't known about FLAG's first operative, Ken Franklyn, who was also killed while on a case. That made two operatives who died in the line of duty -- in Michael's case, before he even brought down a single criminal. That wasn't a good track record. It wasn't long after Michael's death that the board reassigned Devon Miles. They hired Retired Colonel Daniel Kasten to be a more aggressive leader, and filled the Foundation's ranks with a whole host of weapons specialists to refit Kitt's systems. They wanted to make Kitt a tactical vehicle. They threw away everything that Wilton believed in because of Michael Knight's death. The dream died with the name, Kitt thought.

It wasn't long before they realized that in addition to the guns, there would need to be changes to Kitt's programming. His primary principle, to protect human life at all costs, was incompatible with the Foundation's new outlook. They had spent months trying to correct that problem - installing code load after code load. He was still programmed to protect human life, of course, but now there were a whole host of ifs, ands, and buts. Rules of engagement, Coltan called them. And Kitt couldn't argue with the basic concept. If a criminal was going to kill people, it was certainly better to kill the criminal first, rather than let innocent people die. He accepted that as logical, but the tendrils of his original programming had never been completely removed. Like KARR, he was fatally flawed, and no amount of reprogramming would entirely erase what he was. He hated knowing that his systems were used to kill. He hated watching that last little spike on his heart monitor disappear, as life ebbed away from someone -- especially when he knew he was at fault.

KARR. That was another little fantasy that Kitt had. When they had first run across KARR in an old Foundation warehouse, Kitt had been sure that everything was going to be all right again. KARR didn't have issues with killing people; they could pair him with Coltan instead. But KARR was too much of a monster - he would kill indiscriminately. So after a brief reprieve, Kitt was back out on missions with Coltan again.

Bonnie always tried to console Kitt with the idea that these were bad people. They caused others pain. She explained that he was like a police officer, or a soldier. Sometimes in their jobs they had to kill, and it was acceptable and expected that they do so. Criminals were not the sort he was supposed to mourn. Kitt understood that, but he still couldn't help the horror he felt every time it happened.

And with Coltan at the wheel, it happened a lot. It wasn't that Coltan was a sadist or loved death; he just didn't hate it as much as Kitt did. And where Kitt would find other means to apprehend someone, sometimes Coltan just went for the kill. It was easier and less risky to them, but Kitt wanted to give every other option a chance first. Coltan had never disobeyed the rules of engagement, but he also never bothered to think of a different approach, once the minimum conditions had been met.

And that's where Michael Knight came in. Michael was former military, like Coltan, but didn't seem nearly as rule bound and rigid. Granted, Kitt had known him only briefly and he had not been a very likable sort, but Coltan never would have entered a demolition derby contest to smoke out a criminal. It was not his style to bother with such a time consuming ruse. He always took the shortest, bluntest path between A and B, and avoided anything that might require a little finesse. Of course, Kitt hadn't been a fan of the demolition derby at the time, but now it seemed harmless, and even fun by comparison.

Coltan returned to the car and holstered his gun. "Call the Colonel and tell him we finished off the leaders of the Moller Cartel. Find out the next assignment and make sure Barstow fixes that launcher. It was slow to deploy again. Or maybe you were just being a coward?"

"I'll have Bonnie look at it as soon as we're back at headquarters, Coltan." Kitt knew it was better to just ignore the insults. Coltan would stop talking sooner that way. They never talked once the necessities had been communicated, unless Kitt tried to argue some point with him. He had learned it was never worth the berating - he always lost in the end anyway. That was another thing he had liked about Michael Knight. True, Michael had told him to shut up, but after a while he had come around. Michael had at least politely asked him to do things instead of grunting orders or insulting him.

Kitt sighed. Maybe he was fooling himself. Maybe he would have come to loathe Michael Knight as much as he did Robert Coltan. Maybe it was only in death that he had grown fond of Michael. If only he had realized how truly grave Michael's injuries were as they made their desperate dash to the Millston airport. He was certain that things would have been different if Michael had lived.

Kitt thought back to that night, to when he had finally realized that Michael's wishes could no longer be obeyed. Michael had fallen unconscious and his vital signs were fading. Kitt had taken control of the car and turned them back, to rush for the hospital. With each beat of Michael's heart, Kitt fervently hoped that there would be another beat following it. But the beats had grown weaker and then stopped entirely. They were still two miles from the hospital, when Michael's heart stopped. Kitt had never felt helpless before, but he certainly had that night. If he had been human, he could have done CPR, but Michael didn't have a human partner, so Michael died.

Maybe that's where his horror at death began -- watching those little spikes slowly grow fainter and then cease. Kitt assumed it was his programming that was the problem, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe the guilt he carried around with him wasn't a result of his programming, but a result of his experiences. Kitt had failed Michael Knight on their first assignment together. Maybe this life was meant to be his punishment.

--------------  
knightshade  
04-20-03


	2. Bonnie's Death Scene

The Bye Bye Bonnie Challenge  
  
This was a challenge of mine, based on rumors around the net that if there had been a season 5, Bonnie wasn't going to survive it. The challenge was simply to write a death scene for her.  
  
Rating: PG Disclaimers: Universal owns Knight Rider and all the characters. I just play with them.  
  
By the time Michael and Kitt made it back to the Foundation, the lab building was already engulfed in flames. There was a dense layer of charcoal gray smoke ballooning up from the top of the building and hanging in the air over the grounds. Michael stepped on the accelerator and threw Kitt into a turn, causing the car to skid to a stop in front of the burning building. There was a gaping hole in the brick wall where the lab had been. Flames were licking through the opening, making it impassable.  
  
"That doesn't look good, buddy. Where is everyone?"  
  
"Devon and several of the technicians are on the other side of the building, Michael."  
  
Kitt put the car back in gear and took them around the lab. Several people were lying in the grass near the burning structure, and others were trying to treat their wounds.  
  
"Kitt, is there anyone still inside?"  
  
"Yes, Michael, four people that I can detect. All trapped in the main lab."  
  
Michael jumped out of the car and spotted Devon standing next to the entryway.  
  
"What happened?" Michael asked as he trotted up to Devon.  
  
The older man turned to him with a pained expression on his soot-covered face. "They started taking apart the weapon you found in Kinsey's warehouse. It was rigged with a small explosive device that triggered when it was tampered with. Unfortunately, they were working close to the storage area where Kitt's fuel is kept. It ignited."  
  
Michael's throat clenched. "Bonnie?" He asked.  
  
"She's alive, with two others in the back room. The initial smaller explosion knocked her off her feet, so she missed the brunt of the second blast, but she might be unconscious. There's at least one other technician with her."  
  
"How do I get to them?" Michael's heart had skipped a beat, but he set his jaw, determined to get them out.  
  
"Jim, one of the technicians, went back in after them. But another beam fell across the doorway, trapping him as well. There's only one way out of the lab."  
  
"Show me!"  
  
Devon entered the doorway that had been propped open and Michael followed him in. They crept along the wall, keeping their heads bent low to get the fresher air close to the ground. The corridor continued to fill with smoke. They approached what had been a set of double doors. The glass had been blown out and what was left of the wood frame was vigorously burning, the charred edges glowing brightly. Michael tried to see into the room but the smoke was too thick. It was rolling out of the double doors along the ceiling and dispersing into the air above them. The heat was unbearable. Michael made a move to jump through the doorway. Devon grabbed his arm and pulled him closer so he could talk above the loud rumble of the fire. "No. There's no way out."  
  
"I have to, Devon." Michael yanked his arm away and took a step back before hurling himself through the opening. He was hit with a wave of heat and dropped to the floor as he tried to get his bearings. Overhead, the fire was crawling along the ceiling, crackling and sparking as it ate up the acoustic tiles. In front of him, several beams lay across his path, burning. Michael ducked as a large piece of ceiling tile fell near him. He looked down and saw two men lying near the doorway. One was badly burned and it looked like he had broken bones. Michael checked his pulse and found that he was dead. The other man looked unharmed, aside from being singed. He was probably overcome by the smoke. Michael looked around for a way to get him out. He couldn't drag him through the flame near the door; they'd both be burned. Michael looked toward the entrance and saw that Devon was still there, anxiously looking in. Michael picked up the man. He was heavy, dead weight, but Michael managed to hoist him up and take a step toward the door. Michael couldn't jump through again with the man in his arms. His only choice was to try to throw him through. He got as close as he dared and then using all his strength hoisted the man back and forth once before heaving him through the burning doorway. Devon jumped back startled.  
  
"Get him outside," Michael yelled.  
  
Devon nodded and started dragging the unconscious man toward the exit. Michael turned back toward the rest of the lab. "Help me here, buddy. Where are they?" He yelled into his comlink.  
  
"Michael, they're in the back half of the lab. You'd have to cross the entire length of the room to get to them."  
  
"Kitt, what about the hole blasted through the wall? Can I get to them through there?"  
  
"It might be possible."  
  
Michael leaped back through the double doors and landed out in the hallway again, this time he had to stop and bat out a small flame that caught on his jeans. He ran through the corridor and stopped briefly as he passed Devon and the man.  
  
"Can you make it?"  
  
"Yes, go!"  
  
Michael ran back to the entrance and burst through the door at a dead run for Kitt. The driver's side door was already open and Kitt had the car moving before Michael managed to get it closed. They swung around the parking lot and up over the curb to the section of building with the gaping hole. It had erupted in flames. Michael looked at it, determined but stifled. They wouldn't get in that way.  
  
"Kitt, can you turbo boost through a section of wall that will get me close to her?"  
  
"No, Michael. The explosion severely damaged this side of the building. It would likely collapse if we were to turbo boost."  
  
Michael slammed his fist down against the steering yoke. "Kitt, I have to get in there!" He jumped out of the car and ran toward the ragged opening.  
  
"Michael, my scans indicate that my CO2 spray could suppress the fire enough for you to get into the building. Bonnie and the other technician are along the wall, close to this position. It might be enough to allow you to get to them."  
  
"Do it!"  
  
Kitt put the car in gear and drove right up to the fire. Michael followed, holding his jacket in front of his face to shield himself from the heat. Kitt let a cloud of CO2 mist fly into the blazing hole. A section turned white, hissed, and then went out. The soot covered remains of the building were still glowing in places but Michael didn't wait. He threw himself into the building. There was more smoke and heat in this section than the other side of the building. The fire was everywhere. "Where are they, Kitt?!"  
  
"Off to your left, Michael. They're huddled against the outside wall."  
  
Michael looked in the direction Kitt indicated. He couldn't see anything through the smoke and he was starting to cough. He ducked his chin into his jacket and tried to keep his head low. He carefully studied the building to his left. There was a row of lab benches, and an aisle along the wall with cabinets and equipment. Michael couldn't see farther than a few feet in front of him. The fire was crackling and popping.  
  
"Bonnie? Can you hear me?" Michael took a few stumbling steps along the wall.  
  
"Michael, in front of you, about 10 feet," Kitt said.  
  
Michael squinted and lifted his head. The smoke was hanging in the air, but he could make out two figures leaning against the wall. There was a large wooden beam between Michael and the two technicians. It had fallen and one end was propped up against a nearby lab bench and the other end was lying on the floor by the wall. Red and yellow flames had swallowed it. He couldn't get to them.  
  
Michael got as close to the beam as he could and then screamed over it. "BONNIE!!"  
  
He saw one of the figures straighten and turn in his direction. "Michael?"  
  
"Yeah. Come on."  
  
Bonnie looked down at the technician next to her. Kai was barely conscious and he wasn't breathing well. "Come, on Kai. We're going to get out of here."  
  
Kai's head lolled around to look up at her. Then his eyes shut and he slumped against the wall, overcome. Bonnie shook him and slapped his cheek. "Come on, not now."  
  
"Bonnie!" Michael yelled, frustrated that the two figures weren't moving.  
  
"I can't Michael, he's unconscious."  
  
Michael looked around at the space between them. It was going to be hard to get an unconscious man past the burning beam. He moved over to the lab bench, realizing that it was Formica and metal and it wasn't burning. There was space underneath it to slide past the beam.  
  
"Bonnie, drag him under the lab benches."  
  
Bonnie looked up, saw where Michael was pointing, and grabbed Kai under the arms. It was hard to drag him. She was lightheaded from the smoke and couldn't stop coughing. She was tired, scared, and her shoulder hurt from being thrown to the ground by the first explosion.  
  
Bonnie got Kai to the lab bench and laid him down. She looked under the bench and saw that Michael was most of the way past the beam and was reaching out to take Kai from her. Michael's face was soot and sweat covered, but his blue eyes were piercing and determined, as always.  
  
Bonnie pushed Kai under the lab bench and Michael started to pull him around to the other side.  
  
"Michael! Look out! A section of the building is about to fall," Kitt yelled over the comlink. Michael grabbed Kai's shoulder and pulled as hard as he could. Kai came sliding out from under the lab bench and Michael dragged him across the floor as a storm of bricks and blazing wooden boards came raining down around them. Michael's side of the lab bench was buried under a pile of burning rubble. Michael dropped Kai close to the entrance and looked back at the bench, wide-eyed. "Kitt!?"  
  
"She's okay, Michael, but she's trapped on the other side."  
  
Bonnie watched as her escape route was buried in debris. She inched out the only direction she could go -- backwards. She stood up and looked to where the beam was still burning away, blocking her only exit. She looked up at the billowy flames above her head and at the glimpse of blue sky that was peeking through the damaged roof. Around her were walls of vivid yellow and red in every direction. She gazed back across the beam and saw Michael staring back at her. He wasn't moving. He was standing still, silhouetted against the fire behind him. Bonnie was struggling to get enough air, and she started to shake. If there were a way out, Michael would be telling her what to do. She stared at him though the smoke.  
  
Michael felt his throat tightening. It was already burning painfully and his eyes were tearing up under the assault from the acrid smoke. "Kitt, there's some other way," he said, softly, eerily calm.  
  
"I'm sorry, Michael."  
  
"Kitt, there's got to be a way!" His voice rose in pitch as he yelled the words.  
  
Kitt didn't respond.  
  
"Fine! Then we're going to turbo boost through the wall behind her."  
  
"No, Michael, it will bring down the rest of the ceiling. The fire department is on their way. It would be best to wait for them. They have the proper equipment," Kitt said the words to try to reassure Michael. He didn't want Michael to do anything rash, but Kitt knew the truth. A section of the brick wall above Bonnie was about to come down and the fire department wouldn't get there in time. He wanted so badly to be able to tell Michael there was a way out of this situation, but his analysis had come back empty. He shared Michael's desire to storm into the building and rescue Bonnie, but he knew it wasn't possible.  
  
Michael looked across the pile of bricks and other debris into the inferno on the other side. "Hang in there, Bon. Help is coming." He watched Bonnie turn in a full circle, looking around her at the crumbling building. She turned back and her eyes locked on his. Her hair had been tied back in a ponytail, but most of it had come loose and was hanging next to her face. Her cheeks were red, and covered in dirt. Michael could only see her face and part of her shoulders; the smoke and flames obscured the rest of his view.  
  
"Michael?"  
  
"It's going to be okay. I'll get you out of here," he shouted over the fire.  
  
She held her ground, staring at him. The smoke was thickening and he could barely see her.  
  
"Michael, be careful -- always. And take care of Kitt."  
  
"Bonnie, we're going to get you out."  
  
She just stared back. The smoke curled around her. She didn't even look up as the wall above her let loose into several chunks of brick. Michael watched in horror, as the bricks seemed to fall in slow motion. The smoke cut off his view as Bonnie disappeared under the pieces. When the debris hit the floor, showers of red embers launched outward in several directions.  
  
"NOOOOO!!!" he screamed as he dove forward before the intense heat forced him to retreat. He desperately scanned the wreckage, looking for a way to get to where she had been.  
  
"Michael, stop. There's nothing more you can do. She's gone. I'm sorry."  
  
Tears started to fall down Michael's face, washing clean rivers through the grime. "No!" He fell to his knees, unable to tear his eyes away from the spot where she had been standing.  
  
"Michael, you need to get out there. There's nothing more you can do."  
  
Michael didn't move.  
  
"Michael! Please!"  
  
The desperation in Kitt's voice cut through his grief. In a trance, he slowly stood and left the building. He pulled Kai a safe distance away, and then sat on Kitt's hood, mesmerized by the flames leaping out of the lab. For the first time, he noticed the sounds of sirens, just as the emergency vehicles pulled into the parking lot. Firefighters jumped down and swarmed in several directions at once. It seemed like part of a hazy dream, everything moving slowly, far away. Michael sat oblivious to it all, a steady stream of tears making their way down his cheeks.  
  
---------------- -knightshade June 30, 2001 


	3. Ragged

Sorry, I didn't realize that the first two stories were sad and had character deaths. Oops. I wasn't paying attention. So, to make up for it here is a light-hearted one. It's from knightimmortal's Made Maddock Suffer challenge. Basically, in some way, torment Russel Maddock from the Knight Rider 2000 movie.  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Knight Rider, Knight Rider 2000, or any of the characters. This is just for fun.  
  
Ragged  
  
Russell Maddock blew into his office at Foundation headquarters, slammed the door shut behind him, and sank against the inside of the metal frame. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending headache. He hated dealing with Daniels and her happy brigade of bureaucrats. Why couldn't they see past their own agendas and accept that he was right. They were under-utilizing FLAG to their own detriment. Russ sighed. They'd realize it one of these days, he thought as he loosened up his tie and opened his eyes . . .  
  
To stare right at a very large doll, sitting in his chair, posed behind his desk.  
  
A whole set of warning bells went off in his head. As a former District Attorney, he knew to beware of odd things turning up in his office. More often than not, they contained a nasty surprise from some recently paroled, resentful criminal. Slowly Russ approached his desk, never taking his eyes off the three-foot high doll. There was something familiar about the big, black, button eyes and vivid, red yarn hair. What was its name? It had been a while since Maddock had been around children, so it took him a minute to realize that it was a giant Raggedy Andy doll, complete with a little bow-tie and blue pants.  
  
He tried to remember if that doll had any significance to any of the cases he had tried as a DA. He had locked up several basket cases, but he couldn't think of any specific incidents. He contemplated it for a moment, and then carefully leaned toward his desk to pick up the phone and call security.  
  
"Sir?" the doll asked, in a voice eerily similar to his.  
  
Maddock stopped with the phone comically held in mid air next to his face. Nooooooo, he thought. It couldn't be. "KIFT?!" he asked.  
  
"Yes, sir. And I respectfully request that you punish them."  
  
"God dammit!" Maddock thundered and slammed down the phone. Who in the hell?! No. Scratch that, he amended. He knew exactly who was responsible for putting his state-of-the-art AI into a doll, and he was not amused! Not in the slightest. It was bad enough that they had displaced his brainchild and effectively stolen his Knight 4000 vehicle, but he was not going to tolerate this mockery! Not at all! He hauled the doll out of his desk chair and stormed out of his office.  
  
* * *  
  
"You have approximately two minutes and thirty-nine seconds before Maddock arrives," Kitt said as Michael plucked an eight-by-ten image from Kitt's printer. He smiled at the close-up of Maddock leaving his office with a Raggedy Andy doll clutched tightly against the side of his chest.  
  
"He doesn't look very happy, does he, pal?" Michael asked with feigning innocence as he added the last picture to a pile of similar shots.  
  
"Well, I have to say that I hope this knocks that arrogant AI down a peg or two."  
  
"Yeah, I can't think of a pair more in need of a good, old-fashioned practical joke."  
  
"Be that as it may, you may not want to be here when he arrives," Kitt warned.  
  
"Good point. See you soon, buddy."  
  
"I look forward to it. Goodbye, Michael."  
  
Michael pushed open the door, grabbed his stack of pictures and left the car. He paused and turned back, knowing that his former partner would be taking the brunt of Maddock's anger.  
  
"Let me know if he gives you any trouble. I'm sure Commissioner Daniels would love to see his softer side," Michael said, snapping the stack of pictures against his palm, and leaving the garage, grinning from ear to ear. 


	4. The Right Guy

Notes: This scene would take place in early season 1 – before everyone had each other figured out, and before Michael and Kitt had settled into their respectful rapport. This story was written for the Multifandom1000 Unrequited Love Challenge.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, or anything that is canon to Knight Rider. See Universal and Glen A. Larson.  
  
Thank you to Tomy for the beta read.

> > > > > > **The Right Guy**

"So, what do you think about dinner after work tonight?" Michael Knight asked, sidling up behind Bonnie as she worked at her computer.  
  
Oh for goodness sake, Kitt thought. His unflappable partner was going to get himself in trouble yet again. It was almost as predictable as Kitt needing to have his fuel tank filled. Bonnie gave Michael a glare and he backed off slightly, his hands out to his sides in a gesture of surrender.  
  
"As friends," he said in a guilty tone that suggested he had been thinking anything but.  
  
Kitt was amazed and sometimes aghast at Michael's persistence in the face of rejection, especially when it came to Bonnie. It seemed that the more times he was turned down, the more often he tried. Not that Kitt was well versed in the matters of human relationships, but this endless cycle looked incredibly pointless to him. Michael seemed to have access to almost as many women as he could possibly want, societal norms about monogamy aside, so why did he continue to pursue Kitt's technician?  
  
Couldn't he see that he was just making himself look foolish? Bonnie didn't seem to be the slightest bit interested in him. Michael should just stick to his usual . . . well, Kitt didn't want to say bimbos, they were usually very nice women, but Bonnie was different. She was out of his league.  
  
It didn't seem to Kitt that someone as sophisticated as Bonnie would fall for Michael's rather puerile charms. As far as Kitt knew, she had only dated one person in the time that he had known her – another one of his designers named Stephen. He had at least seemed better suited to Bonnie. He had a PhD, was very well read, and just had an air of integrity about him. Stephen was the kind of person Bonnie deserved -- someone who would take her to a ballet instead of some boring sports event or, heaven forbid, a rock concert. Bonnie should have someone who appreciated her, not someone who was always keeping an eye out for the next woman.  
  
Kitt wondered what kind of evening out Bonnie would like. If he were to take her on a date, he'd start with a nice restaurant, one of the places that Devon frequented, the kind that served several courses. Then he would probably take her to the symphony. He knew she had Vivaldi and Mozart in the collection of music she sometimes listened to while writing software for him. Yes, a performance of _The Four Seasons_ would probably set the mood nicely. Then perhaps he would take her out to a fashionable café for an after dinner drink. They certainly sounded interesting, even though Kitt had never actually tasted a drink of any kind. He wondered if Bonnie liked to dance. Well, perhaps that would be a bit much for one evening.  
  
He felt a little guilty about wishing his partner ill, but Kitt couldn't help hoping that Bonnie never fell in love with Michael. Although, if the angry way she left the room was any indication, there was little fear of that. Kitt fervently wished that she would end up with someone who was a little more like . . .  
  
Kitt stopped himself cold. Oh dear. He hoped this wasn't what human beings called a 'crush.'  
  
----------------   
-knightshade   
06/15/04 


	5. The Ends and The Means

Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Knight Rider. This is just for fun.  
Thank you to Tomy for the beta read.  
  
This takes place after the episode Knight In Disgrace. It was written for Tomy's 'moonlight' challenge.

** The Ends and the Means  
**  
  
The moonlight was bouncing off everything around them, but it wasn't making it that much easier to see. In the desert, there were few things to intercept and scatter light – it hit something and bounced back into the wide-open oblivion. There were only a few things distinct enough to catch Michael's attention -- the curve of Kitt's hood, the Joshua tree they were parked next to, and the mysterious mountain peaks, dark against the field of stars behind them.  
  
It was barren, but it was home. Most people would probably prefer the lush greenery and beautiful old mansions of New Orleans, but Michael was a child of the desert. To him, there was something sinister about Louisiana with its pungent smell of magnolia, and the scent that lingered underneath it – the one that hinted of something rotting. Michael was glad to be back in the crisp, dry air of California. The heat here was bearable. It lacked the oppressive weight and stickiness of the Southern summer. Here, even when it was hot, he could wear his jacket, especially during the cool of the night. In New Orleans his jacket had clung to him unpleasantly and the air had the suffocating feel of a barely visible fog, even after the sun went down. The humidity had stuck to him, just like his deception had.  
  
Michael gazed up through the open T-tops at the sharp pinpoints of light that were scattered around the sky. There was something about humid air that made everything blurry, hazy, and indistinct. Things got lost in the miles of overgrown yards, vine-covered homes, and slow southern drawls. Important things. In the miles of open desert, things were clear. There was room to be, room to think.  
  
"Happy to be home?" Kitt asked, interrupting Michael's attempt to put off the inevitable.  
  
"Yeah." Michael brought his attention back to his partner. He had wanted to wait for a quiet moment, when they were back on their own turf. Now that he had that moment, Michael was afraid to bring up the thoughts that had plagued him the whole way back. "Kitt," Michael asked, hesitating slightly. "Are we okay?"  
  
"Of course," Kitt answered quickly. Michael wasn't sure if he was just imagining things, but he thought he heard the hint of unease in his partner's normally confident voice.  
  
"Because I'd understand if we aren't. I lied to you, and put you in a very difficult position."  
  
"It was necessary, Michael. You've explained that. And we stopped LaSalle in the end."  
  
Michael sighed. He knew it went deeper than that. He felt that it went deeper than that. "Yes. But you trusted me, and I took that trust and manipulated it." Michael still felt bad for the moments in the garage when he had convinced Kitt to turn away from everything he knew to be true for something that in the end was just a part of a charade. He had put his partner through Hell. It had accomplished their goal, but did that justify what he had done to Kitt?  
  
"Michael, I know you did what you had to do, but I guess, yes, it does make me wonder."  
  
"Wonder what?"  
  
Kitt sighed. "Wonder that if the next time I don't understand something, it means you aren't being honest with me."  
  
It hurt to hear, but Michael couldn't blame his partner for feeling that way. It was the obvious consequence of breaking Kitt's trust in the first place.  
  
"And if I promised I would never deceive you again?"  
  
"I assume you would have made that promise before this case?"  
  
"Yeah, Kitt, before this case, I would have said that I would never lie to you."  
  
"But you had very good reasons."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Which means that if you have very good reasons in the future, you may have to break that promise again."  
  
Michael stewed in his guilt for a moment. He never wanted to betray his partner's trust. He respected Kitt too much for that, but he saw that there could be circumstances where he might have to do it again. There was always something vital on the line; a canister of a stolen biological weapon, or God knows what else. There were always people's lives hanging in the balance. He couldn't promise that he wouldn't ever lie when there were those kinds of stakes. He needed Kitt to trust him again, but there was no good reason why he should.  
  
"Yeah, pal, unfortunately you're right. I don't ever want to, but yeah, I might be put in another situation where I might have to break that promise."  
  
Michael focused his attention on a streak of white on his partner's shell -- the cleansing light of the desert moon. If their rolls were reversed, he'd have a hard time trusting Kitt again. He had spent the whole trip back from New Orleans with this knot in his stomach, knowing that he was going to ask Kitt to do something that he might not be able to do himself.  
  
"Michael, can you promise me that you will never lie to me, except in the most dire situations."  
  
"Of course, Kitt. And I will never make that decision lightly."  
  
There was a slight pause. "Then I can trust that everything you do has a good reason. And I will always trust that even if you can't tell me, you are doing the right thing."  
  
Michael closed his eyes and swallowed. "Thank you, Kitt," he breathed, amazed that he had a partner who could give him his trust so freely.

----------------  
-knightshade  
July 4, 2004


	6. AllNighters

Title: All-Nighters  
Author: knightshade  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Author's Notes: This was a response to Tomy's Sunlight challenge. It's just kind of a 'day in the life' type scene. Thanks to Tomy for the beta read.

**All-Nighters**

Bonnie watched as Kitt slowly backed down the ramp. She could always tell who was driving – Kitt was the more careful of the two. That and since the semi was stationary, there would be no high speed 180 degree turn at the bottom, and therefore, no real reason for Michael to want to drive.

Instead of closing the ramp immediately, as she would do if they were moving, Bonnie decided to leave it open for a while. It was a beautiful morning, clear with only a few clouds trailing across the sky. The ramp was facing east and the sunlight was streaming into the bay, clearing out the stale blue, fluorescent glow that she had been working by overnight. Bonnie sat down at the top of the ramp, her back against the inside edge of the trailer, her arm resting casually across the tops of her bent knees. It was amazing the effect sunlight had on her body. An hour ago, she had been dead tired, barely able to keep her mind focused on making the appropriate adjustments to Kitt's sensors. But now that the sun had risen, she was alert again, and trying to decide whether she should put on a pot of coffee or try to take a nap. An hour ago, there wouldn't have been any question.

Michael had brought Kitt in late last night, as usual, because he was having problems with his sensors. Actually, she couldn't complain too much, because instead of hovering over her asking when Kitt would be ready, Michael had crashed in one of the semi's bunks. It worked out well that way – she could tinker at her own pace without feeling rushed, and he got some rest before getting back to the case. Normally she could do without the all-nighters, but sometimes they did have advantages.

Bonnie leaned her head back against the edge of the semi, admiring the waving fields of hay around her. At least she thought it was hay, not having grown up anywhere near farms, she wasn't exactly sure, but it was very pretty. She breathed in the light summer breeze. It had a faint, earthy smell to it that was a little sweet and somehow very reviving. She couldn't ask for a more perfectly peaceful moment.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there before she was interrupted by the twitter of the videophone. She glanced down at her watch -- seven o'clock. That would be Devon, looking for status on the case. Bonnie let the tone sound once more before getting up. It looked like it was going to be the pot of coffee this morning.

-----------------  
-knightshade  
July 5, 2004


	7. Nobody Gets Hurt

Title: Nobody Gets Hurt  
Author: knightshade  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: They aren't mine – I just like to play with them.

Author's Notes: Thank you to protowerks for help with the car stuff. ;-) Thank you to Tomy for help with the ending.

For Tomy's Dangerous Bargain Challenge.

**Nobody Gets Hurt**

Michael's heart rate quickened and tension crept into the muscles of his neck. The heavy, expectant air of the abandoned warehouse was seeping into his physiology, filling him with an unsettling dread.

"I don't like the looks of this," Kitt said as Michael brought the car to a slow stop.

"Me either, buddy. Me either."

"I'm able to scan inside and have located Kelly. She's sitting by the main loading door."

"How many men are in there?"

"Three, including Ruger. Two are armed with automatic weapons, and Ruger has a semiautomatic pistol."

"Not good odds," Michael muttered to himself as much as Kitt. He peered at the deceptively quiet, ramshackle place. The loading door was a large corrugated metal structure, obviously meant to be raised on a track. Kitt could turbo boost through it with no problem, but he knew that Ruger's men would be able to kill Kelly before they got to her.

"Any ideas?" Michael asked.

"I'm afraid not -- not any good ones anyway. But we have to do something. She was taken to get to us."

"I know." They had been investigating the theft of high tech designs from a Silicon Valley firm called Globaltech. Kelly hadn't even been involved, other than to make the mistake of flirting with him, and giving him a tour of the lab. Now she was being held hostage.

Michael squinted against the harsh glare of the afternoon sun and spotted movement from behind a dusty, cracked window. "They made us, buddy!"

"Yes. According to my sensors, they're moving toward the door."

As Michael watched, the segmented loading door began to move, a gaping square of black appearing under it as it slowly rose. Ruger was standing in the doorway, holding Kelly in front of him, a gun pressed to the base of her skull. Ruger pushed her forward, out into the sunlight.

"Mr. Knight, it's good to see you. If you'll get out of your car and bring me the designs, nobody will have to get hurt."

"Yeah, right," Michael grunted under his breath.

"The two other gunmen are just inside the door," Kitt warned.

Michael squinted to find them in the dimness of the warehouse, but they were invisible in the murk.

"Options, Kitt?"

"There don't appear to be any good ones. Devon's called the authorities and they're on their way."

"I assume they've been filled in on the situation?"

"Yes. They are arriving without lights or sirens, and they're going to set up a parameter a block away on each side. They're bringing snipers."

"How long until they're in place?"

"I estimate ten minutes."

"If I can stall them until the police can get the snipers in place . . ."

"Ruger's not going to give you the chance, Michael. He's going to kill you the minute you give him the designs -- assuming he doesn't just kill you first and take them."

"I'm not a very patient man, Mr. Knight," Ruger yelled. Michael saw Kelly flinch as he pushed the gun tighter against her neck.

"Michael, I really don't like this. If you go out there, you'll be completely exposed. There's no cover."

"I know, but we don't have much of a choice." Michael opened the door and slowly stood next to the car. "I'm here, let her go."

"That wasn't exactly our deal. Do you have the schematics?"

Michael reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a roll of paper, feeling like it was his only shield.

"Bring the designs closer and set them on the ground."

"Uh-uh. Not until she's safely in the car."

Ruger smirked. "I don't think so."

"Why not? You're armed, I'm not. If I give you what you want, you'll just kill both of us. Let her go and you can have the designs."

Ruger's smile was serpentine. Michael knew he was just planning to kill them both, trade or no trade. But he didn't know about Kitt. Michael wished he knew where the other two gunmen were. It was just too dark inside the warehouse.

"What makes you think I won't kill you anyway?" Ruger asked.

"I figure you'll at least want to look at the designs before you kill me. They might just be blank. If you shoot me first, you'll have no way of knowing where I put the originals." It was a risky ploy. If Ruger started to think he didn't have the designs, he might not play ball, but Michael needed to buy time in any way he could.

"If those papers are anything but the schematics, I will make sure that both of you die slow, painful deaths," he said icily.

"They're not. I'm just saying what I would do in your position."

"Fine. Bring them to me."

"Michael, if you get too close to him, I can't protect you," Kitt said quietly.

"I know. Just be ready to coordinate with those snipers."

Michael began to slowly close some of the distance between him and Ruger. Kitt was right -- there wasn't any cover. This could get ugly quickly. Keeping as slow a pace as he could, Michael took the opportunity to study Kelly. She had some bruises on her face and arms, but other than that, she looked okay. He slowed to a stop halfway to the warehouse. "Let her go."

"Come closer."

"Look, I'm not coming any closer. Now if you want these schematics, let her go!"

"Set the designs on the ground."

Michael didn't want to antagonize Ruger too much, so he slowly dropped the roll of paper at his feet. Ruger pushed Kelly away, and she ran toward Michael. He wished he could tell her to go slower -- he really needed the time. She reached him and stopped. "Get in the car," he said, not taking his eyes off Ruger. He listened to her footsteps as she ran to Kitt, and then he heard the door open and quickly shut. At least she was safe. Now he just had to get himself out of this.

Ruger started to move forward, his gun aimed at Michael. He quickly crossed the distance and then stopped about ten paces away. Michael knew that Ruger was too close for Kitt to get in between them. And Kitt was so far away. "Kick the designs to me," Ruger said. "Try anything funny and you're dead on the spot."

Michael carefully kicked the papers in his direction. Ruger put his foot on the edge of the papers, and rolled them out with his free hand. "Thank you very much, Mr. Knight. It's been a pleasure . . ."

"DIVE FORWARD!"

Kitt's voice cut through everything. Before Michael could consciously weigh his options or consider the situation, he found himself hitting the deck – his body instinctively responding to his partner's command without question or hesitation. He heard the explosive sound of Kitt's turbine roaring to life from its previous idle. He heard a sharp thrust of air, and then a gunshot in front of him. He heard the ricochet off Kitt's shell. What he didn't hear was the sound of Kitt's tires on the pavement. After what seemed like eternity, he heard a loud crunch and the horrible squealing of tires right at his ears. He felt something rake against his back. Michael forced down the instinct to throw his hands over his head, realizing that they would likely get sheered off. He opened his eyes to see that he was covered by a familiar shadow. He saw bright flashes against the pavement and heard the staccato beat of automatic weapons fire. Michael flinched as bullets bouncing off of Kitt's shell. Then, one by one, each of the automatic weapons went silent.

Michael hazarded a peek forward and saw Ruger's dead body sprawled on the pavement. He looked to the side to see his partner's wheel, inches from his head. The wheel started turning as Kitt rolled back away from him. Michael slowly shook his head and picked himself up, not quite sure if he was going to be steady on his feet. He looked at the skid marks on the ground, realizing that Kitt had landed from his turbo boost maybe 10 or 15 feet from where he had been lying and skidded into position.

"Are you alright, Michael?" Kitt asked nervously, as he engaged his hydraulics and lowered his suspension, bringing the car back to its normal profile.

"Yeah." Michael blinked, still trying to make sense of what happened.

"I'm sorry about your jacket, but I couldn't raise my chassis any higher after a landing like that. And I had to do something to draw Ruger's fire. I hoped that he wouldn't be able to ignore a car flying in his direction."

Michael looked over his shoulder and realized that his jacket was torn all the way across his shoulders. He could feel the sting of scraped skin underneath it. "It's okay, buddy." He slowly sank down onto Kitt's hood, listening to the scream of the sirens as the cops came careening into the parking lot. He glanced up at a building across the street and spotted the snipers who must have taken out Ruger and his men. "A jacket's replaceable. Thanks for saving my hide."

"Of course, Michael. I'm just glad it worked. I wasn't completely sure that my turbo boosting would draw Ruger's fire."

"It sure did, buddy."

"I also wasn't sure if you would dive flat to the ground, but I was out of options."

Michael bowed his head, the full weight of just how bad his predicament had been starting to sink in. "You did great." He tried to build a wall against the emotions he knew would surface just as soon as the shock wore off. He smoothed the hood next to him and said quietly, "Thank you for saving my life, Kitt."

"You're welcome, Michael. I'm just glad you're okay."

The passenger door opened and Kelly sprang out of it, catching Michael in a rush of words he couldn't process and a hug that pressed his shirt uncomfortably against his scraped skin. One of the police officers was headed their direction, and Michael nodded to him to take Kelly over to the police cars.

Michael stood and slowly moved to the door that Kitt opened for him. He saw Devon pull up in one of the police cars, and knew they were going to want to talk to him. But right now he just wanted to sit in the safety of Kitt's cabin for a moment. He leaned back against the headrest, despite the stinging in his shoulder blades, and closed his eyes.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Kitt asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Yeah, buddy, I'll be fine," he mumbled. He knew he would be. He didn't always pay attention to how close they sometimes came to disaster, but every once and a while, it hit him like a load of bricks. He was just glad to have a partner who he could trust so completely that sometimes he didn't even have to think – he could just react and know that his partner would take care of him. It was overwhelming to be able to trust someone that deeply.

"Would you like to go back to the Foundation?" Kitt asked.

"No, that's okay." Right now Michael just wanted tell his partner how deeply grateful he was, but he didn't have the words – they were already choked off. He said the only thing he could, and just hoped that Kitt understood all that he meant.

"Thank you."

---------------------  
- knightshade  
October 10, 2004


	8. Miscalculations

Title: Miscalculations  
Author: knightshade  
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own anything KR.

Author's Notes: This was written for Storm in the Secret Agent Ficathon at LJ community thekittchen. The assignment was to write something from Bonnie's POV with thoughts about how Kitt feels about Michael (or his work or when he gets hurt). I'm not sure this quite lives up to that assignment, but the muse just wouldn't cooperate. Sorry, Storm.

**Miscalculations**

Bonnie squinted against the sunlight as the semi's ramp slowly lowered, and Kitt's prow came into view. It didn't take diagnostic instruments to see that the damage was bad. Kitt's scanner port was still smoldering and his hood was peppered with gray char marks. Poor Kitt -- always taking the brunt of any harebrained schemes that Michael got them into. Kitt had been vague when he called, just saying that he needed repairs, and avoiding the question of why.

They pulled into the service bay and Michael got out, looking a bit sheepish. At least he had sense enough to feel guilty about it, she thought. "So. What happened?" she asked, already spoiling for a fight.

"My scanner took a direct hit from a heat seeking missile, Bonnie," Kitt said, even managing to sound wounded.

"_How_ direct?" she asked, glaring at Michael.

"My scanner is completely inoperable," Kitt continued, forcing Bonnie to turn her attention back to him. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the diagnostic wand off the bench. Sweeping it over Kitt's hood, she was surprised at the extent of the damage – IR sensors, radar, magnetometer, visible camera – all of his sensors were offline. That and the scanner's processor was toast.

"Well, you certainly did a good job of damaging him this time," Bonnie muttered. "Kitt, could you pop your hood please?"

There was an audible click, leading Bonnie to lift the hood and prop it into place. She immediately recoiled at the pungent odor of burnt electronics.

"Can you fix it?" Michael asked, flopping down in a chair in the office section of the semi.

"Of course I can fix it – I can always fix the damage you do -- it's just going to take some time. I have a replacement processor here, but the sensors themselves are another matter. The only spares I have are back at the Foundation."

"What can you do here?" Michael asked quietly.

"Not much, really. I can change the processor card but it's not going to do any good with a bunch of dead sensors hooked up to it." Bonnie was too busy thinking about the repairs to realize the implications of Michael's question. When it finally dawned on her, she extracted herself from under the hood, crossed her arms defiantly, and asked, "_Why_?"

"On the way here we were contacted by an informant from within Marcus's group. He's willing to give us information about the chemical weapons. We have a meeting with him in two hours."

"So call and reschedule," she said sarcastically.

Without moving, Michael managed to inject frustration into his entire demeanor. "Bonnie, we got this meeting because of what we did today. We proved that we can take on Marcus and live to tell about it. We have this guy's trust right now, and I think he's going to tell us who their supplier is. If we put him off, he may get cold feet. It's taken us weeks to get someone on the inside to trust us enough to risk coming out into the open. We have to meet with him **now**."

Bonnie stopped to glare at him. "And what if it's a trap? Kitt won't be able to scan him – he won't be able to tell you if there's trouble."

"I'll just have to rely on my instincts," Michael said. "I _was_ a cop you know."

Bonnie bit her tongue. She knew she'd be going too far if she mentioned where his cop instincts had gotten him. Even in her anger, she knew that wasn't fair. But, damn, she wished that, for once, he'd consider being just a bit cautious. "That doesn't mean you should take unnecessarily chances," she countered instead.

"I'm not!" he said, getting up from the chair, finally riled to the point of yelling. "You know, sometimes we have to take chances! If Kitt and I were supposed to play it safe all the time, then why would the Foundation have hired you and rigged up a mobile garage? We go against nasty people, and sometimes we bite off a little more than we can chew – it happens!"

Bonnie was so tired of the same old argument, and Devon wasn't here to moderate. Actually, that might be a good thing – he always ruled in Michael's favor anyway.

"Right, so you've discovered that you're in over your head and now you're going to go in further with Kitt damaged. Does that make sense to you?"

"We have one chance to blow the lid off this thing! We've worked for weeks to get this guy to come to us – we can't just walk away." He was standing right in front of her, towering over her, in her space. "I'm sorry, but we have to do this now!"

Bonnie held her ground as best she could. "Michael, Kitt's not just damaged, he's effectively **blind**!"

Michael was glaring back at her and had just opened his mouth to respond when he was interrupted.

"I may be blind, but Michael isn't," Kitt said quietly.

Bonnie stopped and slowly turned around. "What?" she asked, taken by surprise.

"I agree with Michael. He can handle this situation, even if I don't have my full abilities," Kitt said calmly. "I trust him."

Bonnie couldn't remember Kitt having ever expressed his opinion when she and Michael had argued like this before. She looked up at Michael awkwardly. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't smirking or even giving her that 'I knew I'd win' look. "Are you sure?" she asked Kitt.

"Yes, Bonnie. I've learned to rely on Michael's hunches. I may not understand them, but they do have a better than expected success rate. Besides, it was my fault that I got damaged."

Bonnie stared at him. How could it have been Kitt's fault? She glanced back at Michael, who opened his arms wide and just nodded towards Kitt.

"What do you mean?" she asked, more quietly now.

"I was the one who suggested that we go in. We were on the edge of the compound, but it was too far away to determine if they had the chemical warheads. Michael suggested trying to sneak into the compound on foot, but there was really no way for him to get in undetected. I felt it was an unnecessary risk for him to go in alone, so I suggested that we simply approach the compound and get close enough to scan for the warheads. I was the one who said that I would be able to avoid the missiles they were firing at us. But I'm afraid I miscalculated -- I didn't expect them to bring out a second launcher. But, Bonnie, we had to find out for sure if they had chemical weapons or not," Kitt said. "I detected the warheads just before my scanner was destroyed."

Bonnie lowered the diagnostic wand as well as her guard. Kitt had certainly covered for Michael before – refusing to answer when she asked how he had been damaged on several occasions – but she had never seen Michael cover for Kitt. She had been directing all her venom at him, and he hadn't even tried to deflect it by telling her what happened. Not that she would have been angry with Kitt, but Michael bore the brunt of her anger for his partner anyway. It surprised her. It also surprised her that sometimes Kitt suggested doing things that were risky. She had always assumed that that was Michael's handiwork.

Bonnie sighed and pulled out some of her tools. "I'll see if I can get anything else fixed before you need to leave. The radar doesn't look too bad – maybe I can get it working, at least in some limited capacity."

"Thank you, Bonnie," Kitt said, sounding relieved.

"Anything you can get us would be better than nothing," Michael added. Bonnie just nodded to him, realizing for the first time that she had been wrong about his partnership with Kitt. Clearly she had underestimated the respect that both of them had for each other. She had been out of line to blame Michael for everything.

Michael's shoulders relaxed and he turned, obviously about to head back to his chair to wait out the repairs. Bonnie put a hand out to stop him and gently squeezed his arm.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

----------------------  
- knightshade  
October 25, 2004


	9. Holding Hands Drabbles

Title: Holding Hands

Author: knightshade

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I'm not Glen A. Larson or a representative of Universal, so I don't own them.

Author's Notes: These are a series of 100 word shorts (except for the last which is 200 words) based around the idea of holding hands. They were written for Tomy's Holding Hands Challenge. She was also kind enough to look them over for me.

**Bonnie and Kitt  
****(set during Junkyard Dog)**

There were times when Bonnie really wished she could give Kitt a hug or hold his hand.

She watched him line up on the test track that he had run a thousand times before. Only this time was different. This time everything depended on him being able to complete it successfully, and he was so nervous. She had wished him good luck and given his dash a pat, but it just wasn't the same.

She wished there were some physical gesture she could give him that could say, "I have faith in you," as intrinsically as squeezing someone's hand did.

**Michael and Devon**

Michael hated corporate feel-good seminars. He'd rather be shot at or drive through a minefield than listen to some neo-hippie talk about the power of teamwork.

"I want you all to get in a circle," their facilitator said. "Hold hands with the person next to you."

Michael took Devon's hand and gave him a look that clearly said, 'This is ridiculous.'

"Now think positive thoughts," the neo-hippie said.

Michael could only think one thing. He knew it was going to get him in trouble, but he couldn't help it. "Kum-ba-ya," he sang.

Devon's hand immediately tightened into a painful vise.

**Michael and Kitt  
****(set during Sky Knight)**

They sat at the top of the rise, overlooking the compound. Kitt was trying to find some weakness, some way in. Then Devon called to tell them that Bonnie was going to be the first person executed.

"Hang in there, Bonnie," Michael said under his breath.

Kitt wished he had some way of reassuring his partner -- of giving him strength.

Michael clenched his teeth and gripped down on Kitt's steering yoke, his nails leaving little half-moon crescents in its surface. In a way, Kitt _was_ giving Michael something to hold onto.

In a way, he was holding Michael's hand.

**Bonnie and Devon**

"Bonnie, would you mind taking another look at this speech?" Devon asked nervously.

She'd already read it four times.

And he never ceased to amaze her. Devon gave speeches all the time. He handed out awards like candy. But when he was _accepting_ an award, the man became a basket case. Normally, it was endearing, and she wouldn't mind holding his hand through the process, but she was really busy today.

Bonnie leaned over his desk. "Trust me, Devon, it's a good speech. You'll be fine," she said firmly. Then she smiled, patted his arm, and quickly left his office.

**Michael and Bonnie**

Bonnie had been working on Kitt all night and needed a break, so Michael suggested a little stargazing. They walked part of the way down the semi's ramp together before he hopped over the side. He offered his hand to help her and was stunned when she didn't let go after jumping down herself.

Hand in hand, they walked away from the truck and into the desert night.

Bonnie tilted her head back and the starlight wove delicate, shimmering patterns in her hair. "It's such a beautiful night," she whispered.

Michael glanced down at their entwined hands.

It certainly was.

**Michael and RC**

"Game point, my man," RC said, dribbling the basketball and grinning.

"Just take your shot," Michael groused.

In a flash RC charged. Michael tried to defend the hoop, but as he went up to block the shot, RC barreled into him shoulder first. Michael fell into the bushes behind the hoop as the ball swooshed through the net.

"Sorry man. I get a little competitive," RC said, offering Michael his hand. "No hard feelings?"

They clasped forearms and RC helped pull him up.

"No hard feelings. But next time I'll wipe the floor with you!"

"Bring it on," RC laughed.

**More Michael and Bonnie  
****(set in a story idea that will probably never get written)**

Bonnie was sitting on the hospital gurney staring down at the floor.

"Hi, sweetheart," Michael said, but he didn't get much of a response. He wanted to give her a hug, but with her injuries, he didn't think he could do it without hurting her.

Michael sat next to her on the bed, careful not to crowd her or move the rolling table where she was resting her hand against an icepack. She slowly lifted her arm, probably to let her hand warm a bit.

Michael very carefully took her wrist and rolled it over, resting her palm on his. She winced, but only slightly. Her knuckles were a line of angry purple hillocks. It sickened him to know that each of her fingers had been systematically pulled from their sockets -- one of her many injuries that reminded him of his own brushes with torture.

He slowly lowered both of their hands to the table, hers on top. Then he positioned the icepack, holding up most of its weight so that it just grazed her knuckles. "Let me know when it gets too cold again."

Bonnie finally looked up, her eyes clouded with emotion. "Thank you," she said softly.

----------------  
-knightshade  
June 6, 2005


	10. Grass Stains and Ripped Jeans

Title: Grass Stains and Ripped Jeans  
Author: knightshade  
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: They aren't mine.

Summary: Michael finds the perfect use for the clothes in the back of his closet.

Author's Notes: All mistakes are mine. This was written for Tomy's 'Clothes' challenge.

**Grass Stains and Ripped Jeans**

Michael wasn't fussy when it came to clothes. His closet was filled with comfortable jeans, button-down shirts, and of course, his leather jacket. Or jackets really – they got ruined on such a regular basis that he was starting to think he should wait for a sale and just buy in bulk. He had a couple suits in case of funerals, weddings, or other formal occasions, and the obligatory pair of dress shoes that matched all of them. But he also tended to collect things in the back of his closet – clothes that he often thought he should just get rid of. At the moment though, he was happy he had never gotten around to it.

Michael ran his hand through his hair a few times to give it a messier, tousled look. He thought about limping a little but decided that was overkill. He skipped down the stairs, went out the Foundation's front door, and then circled back around the edge of the building.

His comlink beeped. "I wish you wouldn't do this," said the prim voice on the other end of the line.

"Sorry, pal, you don't get a vote this time."

"I can't lie if he asks."

"He's not going to ask," Michael said for what felt like the hundredth time.

"But Bonnie might."

"Kitt, I already told you, I don't expect you to lie. If one of them asks, I promise to accept full responsibility for my actions."

"But why is this necessary? Is your date really that important?"

It wasn't that his date was all that important. It was more the principle of it. As far as he was concerned, risking his life for the Foundation should be more than enough. He shouldn't have to go to fundraisers too. But he didn't feel like explaining that to Kitt _again._

Michael rounded the corner of the estate to see the tents set up. People were milling around near the tents, dressed to the nines and sipping Champaign. He spotted Devon in the crowd chatting up an older couple that he didn't recognize. Michael picked up his pace, gave his breathing a shallow pant, and ignored the stares he got as he crossed the lawn.

"Hey, Devon," he said causing his boss to turn around. The look of horror itself was worth any repercussions he might have to face later. Devon's eyes tracked over his whole appearance with distain -- the tussled hair, the dirt he'd smudged on his cheek, the deliberately half-tucked shirt that was covered with grass stains, the tear in the arm of his jacket, and the dirty jeans that were ripped above the knee.

"Michael," he said with a forced smile that went perfectly with his patronizing tone of voice.

"I'm sorry, Devon. But some things came up," he said meaningfully. He was careful not to actually say i what /i things. It wouldn't be his fault if Devon assumed he meant the current case.

"I see," he said leaning Michael's direction and asking conspiratorially, "Is there anything you need?"

"Not right now. But there are a few things I need to take care of."

"Of course. Be careful, Michael," he said in a cheery voice that practically begged 'please leave before the other guests see you.'

Michael turned and smiled mischievously at Devon's companions who were not shy about gawking at him. "It was nice meeting you."

Then he hurried away before Devon thought to ask any more questions. He turned the corner of the estate with a spring in his step and a grin on his face.

Clothes may or may not make the man, he thought, but they definitely made the excuse.

--------------------  
-knightshade  
June 20, 2005


	11. Minor Damage

Title: Minor Damage

Author: knightshade

Rating: PG

Summary: Michael, Bonnie, and Kitt recover from a difficult case.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Knight Rider. See Universal.

Author's Notes: This takes place after Sky Knight. This was written for the Psychology challenge over at The Kittchen. Thank you to Tomy for the beta read.

**Minor Damage**

Michael was sitting in Kitt's cabin with his eyes closed. They were parked safely in the semi, on their way back to Los Angeles while Bonnie handled the repairs. She had finally stopped hovering and clucking over the relatively minor damage. But not before she had inspected every inch of Kitt, polished away the scorch marks, and run every diagnostic test twice. She had been under the car, under the hood, and under the dash. But now the frenetic activity had ended and she was sitting front of the semi's computer. Michael opened his eyes and studied her a minute. It still didn't look like she was doing anything other than staring at it.

"Michael I still don't understand why you didn't just fly home with Devon?" Kitt asked, for the second or third time.

"I told you, pal, I didn't feel like getting debriefed right now."

"You're going to have to fill him in on the details sooner or later."

"I know. I'm just choosing later. Besides, what's wrong with spending a little time with my partner?"

"Nothing, but sitting here while I recharge can't be very entertaining."

Michael smiled. "I'm just recharging too, pal."

The voice modulator was dark for a few minutes. Just when Michael was about to close his eyes again and rest his head back, it jumped to life.

"This mission was particularly draining," Kitt said quietly.

Michael nodded and glanced through the windshield at Bonnie. She was resting her chin on her hand, still staring at the monitor. "I think it always is when someone you care about is in danger, Kitt." For Michael it always cut a little bit deeper, made him want to push past where he felt he could reasonable go. "The stakes are higher."

"And in this case there were just so many obstacles."

Michael couldn't argue with that. Mines, mortars, and missiles, while not uncommon in their lives, each made for a bad day individually. Facing all of them at once had been mind blowing. And that was all just a warm up for the doomsday device. Deep Sleep had been a nightmare for all of them.

As he watched, Bonnie ran a hand through her hair and abruptly pushed her chair back from the computer. "I'm going to make some coffee. Do you want some?" she asked. There was a drawn look to her face and a tension in her voice that Michael didn't like.

"Sure," he answered as she stepped into the semi's kitchen area. He waited a beat before following her. Michael peered around the corner just in time to see her sigh, slump a bit against the counter, and cover her face with her hand.

"You okay?" he asked calmly. She started and as quickly as she had slumped, she managed to straighten herself up. She turned around with a face masked in carefully-crafted neutrality. "I'm fine, Michael, thanks."

He took a slow step into the kitchen. "You want any help?"

"Making coffee?" she asked, giving him an incredulous look. "No, I think I can handle that on my own." She looked a bit annoyed that he had followed her.

Michael opened the cupboard and handed her the filters anyway. She poured water into the carafe and studiously avoided looking at him.

"Because it's okay if you're not," he said gently.

"Not what?"

"Okay."

She slammed the lever on the sink to turn off the water. "Michael, I'm fine. Would you just stop –" She turned around sharply and the coffee carafe collided with the edge of the sink, shattering with a splash. Bonnie was left holding a plastic handle attached to a ring of jagged-edged glass. She blinked at it for a second and then all her bravado seemed to crumble. Michael took what was left of the pot from her and set it carefully in the sink. Then he gently wrapped his arms around her and coaxed her into a hug. "It's okay."

"I missed my sister's wedding," she said softly.

Part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it but he knew exactly where it came from. It was easier to deal with the little things than the big ones sometimes. "She understands."

"It's not that. I just missed the chance to see my only sister get married."

Michael was pretty sure she was crying. "I know, but there'll be pictures and videos. You'll get to see it even though you weren't there. Besides, it was entirely out of your control."

She nodded against his chest but didn't say anything for while, still crying. Then she calmed down a little and got to what Michael knew was the heart of it. "He was really going to kill me. He had me up in front of the other hostages, a gun pointed at my back. He only got distracted when the alarms went off. If you and Kitt hadn't breached the security perimeter when you did, he would have pulled the trigger."

Michael had wondered just how close it had been. They knew she'd been chosen to be the first executed, but he had no idea how close Zurich had been to actually carrying out his threat.

"I don't think I've ever been that terrified before. Even when Simon Grant tried to strangle me last Halloween, I was scared, but I was still trying to fight him. There was something I could do. But there was nothing I could do against a gun. I was just up there waiting for him to shoot me."

Michael rested his chin against the top of her head. "About all you can do is keep your cool and look for an opening."

"My mind was racing a thousand different directions at once."

"When I was shot, I didn't really have much time to see it coming. I think it was easier that way than having to think about what was about to happen." He didn't really remember much about that night in the desert. It was mostly visceral images like Tanya's face and the muzzle flash.

"I can't say I appreciated the opportunity to wonder how gruesome my corpse was going to be."

Michael's instinct was to recoil at the harshness of her words, but he assumed she was saying them to just get them out in the open – away from her. It was just another way of dealing with it. He pulled her closer. "The important thing is that it didn't happen."

"I know," she said softly, lifting her head to look at him with teary eyes. "Thank you for saving my life."

"I'm just as glad we got there in time."

Bonnie pulled away and grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter. "Look at me. I'm a mess. I'm sorry."

He lifted her chin a little. "Hey, you've got nothing to be sorry about. You've been through a lot the last two days." He paused a beat. "There's no shame in needing a good cry you know."

She let out a short puff of air that might have been a laugh. "I hate doing it though. I mean, look at me. I had a gun pointed at me, seconds away from being shot, and I was fine. It's only later that I fall apart."

"That's kind of how it works for some people you know." He knew. From far too much personal experience, he knew. He was used to being in life or death situations, but every so often he'd suddenly find his hands shaking hours after the fact. "That happens to me too sometimes. In the heat of the moment, it's like I'm in a kind of survival mode. I'm usually thinking about how to get out of the situation, or planning my next move. There's no time to think about what's actually happening. But as soon as things slow down, and I have time to actually think, that's when everything hits me." And it could hit hard.

She looked at him sympathetically. "Does that happen to you a lot?"

"No, not that often. There are just some cases or situations that get to me sometimes."

She nodded like she might have wanted to ask him more, but didn't feel comfortable doing it. "I guess it was a good that Nick was there. I was so busy trying to convince him that everything was going to be fine that I think I convinced myself in the process."

"I'm sure that helped." He smiled a little, thinking about the kid who'd been not so subtly hitting on her.

She sighed and rested her head against his chest.

Michael wrapped his arm around her waist again, but loosely, more companionably this time. "You did a good job in there, you know."

She sighed dismissively. "I didn't do anything. You and Kitt were the ones who got the key."

"Yes, but you were trying to hack into the system to shut it down. You kept your head and just kept moving forward. Not everyone can do that."

"Thanks."

She was smiling a bit again so he grabbed Devon's tea kettle off the small stove. "What do you say we have tea instead of coffee?"

She glanced down at the mess in the sink. "I think that's the only option."

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, giving her a squeeze.

"Yeah. I think so." She paused and then looked up at him suspiciously. "Is this why you wouldn't fly back with Devon on the jet?"

He gave her a coy smile. "Ahhhhhh, I plead the fifth?"

She sagged a little bit again. "Was it that obvious that I was going to melt down?"

"No. Not at all. I wasn't sure if you were really okay or not. But I figured if you weren't, you probably shouldn't be alone."

She smiled up at him, her eyes still a little red and bright. "Thank you, Michael," she said, her voice soft and sincere.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. You're always welcome."

-----------------  
-knightshade  
July 10, 2005


	12. Sooner Rather Than Later

Title: Sooner Rather Than Later  
Author: knightshade  
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Glen A. Larson owns Knight Rider and all its characters. I have no idea who owns the rights to the lyrics for i We Three Kings /i . I just know it isn't me.

Author's Notes: This story is for Tomy's Starlit challenge. Many thanks to Tomy for the quick turn beta.

**Sooner Rather Than Later**

"Star of wonder, star of night . . ."

Michael couldn't be any happier, or any more nervous, as he listened to Stevie singing softly next to him. It was tradition for them to sneak away out into the desert on Christmas Eve and sing carols – just the two of them alone under the stars.

"Star with royal beauty bright. . ."

Stevie was leaning back against the windshield of the Trans Am, staring up at the stars in rapt fascination as she sang. Michael stared at _her_ in rapt fascination as she sang. Stevie was so incredibly beautiful. He couldn't believe how completely he had fallen for her. He loved her more than he had ever thought possible and he couldn't believe how lucky he was.

"Westward leading, still proceeding. . ."

Stevie's breath was crystallizing in the air between them and the hood of the car was sapping the heat through Michael's jeans. They wouldn't be able to stay out here long tonight. It was just too cold.

Michael Long burrowed his hand deep into the pocket of his parka and brushed the felt-covered box hidden there, knowing he was going to have to work up his courage sooner rather than later. He just couldn't let this opportunity pass him by.

What could be more perfect that proposing to the woman he loved under the stars on Christmas Eve?

"Guide us to thy perfect light."


	13. Enough

Title: Enough  
Author: knightshade  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Michael's thoughts on his 'family.'

Disclaimer: I don't own Knight Rider or its characters. Glen A. Larson and Universal are the people to see.

Author's Notes: Thank you to Tomy for the read through, the suggestions, and the commiseration. hugs hon This takes place between Knight Rider and Knight Rider 2000.

**Enough**

He wasn't sure when exactly they really became family. He'd been thinking about that a lot lately. It was one drawback to fishing – like driving, there was a lot of time to think. Too much time. Michael rolled his shoulders and leaned back against one of the pier's pilings, his left foot dangling over the edge. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, staring down at the waves lapping over his foot. They were swirling around his ankle and then rushing off to wherever it was they were going -- leaving them alone with his thoughts.

At some point Devon's pompous clucking and belittling became more endearing than annoying. The paternal nagging had become more paternal and less nagging. He wasn't sure when he actually realized that when push came to shove, he'd always find Devon firmly in his corner. It was such a slow process, like the eroding of a shoreline, that he hadn't seen the transformation taking place until it was done.

It was a little easier to pinpoint when his relationship with Bonnie changed – it was when she left. He hadn't anticipated how much he'd miss her. When she came back after a year away, he was reminded of the time his older brother first came home from college. Michael had been so happy to have him back that he wasn't going to ruin it by fighting with him over the car keys. When Bonnie rejoined the Foundation, Michael felt like they were starting over, without all the tension and rancor. They still had the occasional argument about Kitt, but he'd figured out that it wasn't personal, that she was just over-protective of him. She'd probably be like that with anyone. It was a part of her personality that he'd learned to accept, like Devon's fastidiousness.

Michael wrapped his arm around his knee and pulled it in, closer to his body. The breeze was kicking up a bit and the sun was starting to set. He watched as the shadows on the lake started their slow march eastward, growing away from the setting sun.

This trip down memory lane was headed right where it always went. The route never changed – it always brought him to Kitt. There wasn't one word or metaphor that could possibly sum up their relationship. Kitt was part friend, part older brother, part younger one, part companion, part partner.

In the beginning it had seemed like Michael was made to be like Wilton. He was given Wilton's rugged, chiseled face and it matched his brash, driven, stubborn personality – just like it did on the old man. Kitt on the other hand seemed made to be like Devon. Their temperaments were probably a lot more alike than either realized. And maybe that had been intentional on Wilton's part. He and Devon had been friends for a long time. Maybe it just followed suit that Michael and Kitt would be as well.

Sure, they'd had their clashes early on. Michael had thought that Kitt was too prim, precise, and huffy. And he knew that Kitt had a host of complaints about him too. But despite all their differences, somehow they'd grown very close very quickly. Maybe it was just because they were risking their lives together, but it felt like more than that. Kitt had been the first one he accepted as family – the first one he embraced into his new life. Kitt had been the means for him to open up again, to let people in after losing everyone who meant anything to him. Kitt had brought him back to life. Which was why none of those easy descriptions – friend, brother companion, partner -- seemed to fit him exactly. None of them were _enough._

And in the end it had been Michael who hadn't been enough -- of anything.

He'd walked away. He'd abandoned the one person who really needed him. He'd failed Kitt completely . . .

Michael tipped his head back and closed his eyes, trying to keep the guilt at bay. He wasn't going to let himself go down this path again. He just couldn't. Instead he pulled his foot out of the water and decided it was time to go inside. Tonight he'd work on the Chevy instead of fishing. Tinkering required more focus; his mind didn't wander nearly as much.

Michael grabbed his pole and headed back down the dock toward the shore, staring at the long shadow he was casting. The wooden slots below him were bathed in a pink and yellow glow, but Michael doggedly ignored the sun that was slowly setting behind his back.

-----------------  
- knightshade  
July 20, 2005


End file.
